Spider Man
by Cardinal Robbins
Summary: “You’ve crawled through how many air vents, basements, attics, rotted sheds and god knows what else, but you’re balking at this? Sarah,” John Munch intoned, “you have to admit, from my perspective it’s surprising you’d react this way.” SVU AU


"Spider Man"

by Cardinal Robbins

Disclaimer: Munch isn't mine, but Zelman is. C'mon, Wolf, you know you want her.

"You've crawled through how many air vents, basements, attics, rotted sheds and god knows what else, but you're balking at this? Sarah," John Munch intoned, "you have to admit, from my perspective it's surprising you'd react this way."

She was on the other side of the door, clad only in her lingerie, staring at the far wall. "John, you're courting disaster," she assured him. "Don't make me ask again."

"Come on, sweetie," he chided, "pick up something, do what you need to do. You'll feel stronger for having done it yourself." He stifled a laugh. "You could use your gun, but I think my neighbors may frown on it."

"John! Wiseass! I'm telling you, get in here!"

"Sarah – "

"Damn! It's heading for me!" she hissed, idly wondering whether or not it could see her. She kept her voice low, in case its hearing was better than she counted on.

He heard her momentarily bump against the door as her breathing quickened. "I can't get in if you're in front of the door." He looked skyward for a moment, wondering how in the hell a woman who wore a Glock to work every day of her life would let something so inconsequential bother her. "Okay, I'll come in." It was hopeless; there was no way the smile would leave his face now.

"I can't move."

"Why ever not?" For a split-second, he contemplated bringing in his gun, but knew that would be too much. He finally wrenched the door open, to find her standing on top of the toilet, her dark eyes never leaving the wall, even for a second.

"John, it's scaring me. Okay?"

"Would you like to identify the perpetrator, Detective Zelman? I don't see him." While she glared at the spot on the wall, he slowly, carefully eased his hand up behind her. His long fingers tickled the back of her leg, as she jumped. He winced at the sound of her panicked shriek.

"Jesus Christ!"

"I was kidding, okay?" He knew there would be hell to pay later, but seeing her startle was too much evil fun.

Eyes unmoving, she reached to slap him as he adroitly ducked. "You do that again and I _will_ use my Glock!" She shook her head, somewhat pissed he could take advantage of her fear so easily. "The wall, John…it's on the wall. If you can't see it, Cragen should take your badge."

He couldn't help himself at that point; he laughed, knowing it would mean she'd be far beyond irked with him for doing so. "You lived in California for how long? You've killed creatures with venom, drop for drop, more powerful than a rattlesnake's," he said evenly. "Why can't you simply reach forward and do this?" He took a museum catalog, folded it, gave a quick slap against the wall and the small, eight-legged terror fell to the floor. Dead. "It wasn't a Brown Recluse," he quipped, looking it over. "You're safe now."

"My hero," she said sarcastically. "Do you have any idea how close you came to never getting laid, ever again?" She grudgingly allowed herself to be helped down from her perch. She gave him a look, trying to stay as angry as possible.

"As close as this little fella came?" He slipped the catalog beneath the spider's carcass, conveyed him toward the toilet, lifted the lid and dropped him inside. "Goodbye, cruel world." With a flush, he was gone. John realized his reward was seeing his partner in her bra and panties, flushed from her ordeal.

"Closer that than," she groused. "Don't tell me… You've always been the critter killer, right?"

"Not always." He inspected the catalog, ensured no arachnid parts were left on it to spook Sarah further. "Mom used to curse in either Yiddish or Romanian, then crush them into their basic atomic structure."

"You missed your chance to teach me Romanian profanity," she replied, gently laughing at the thought of Ruth Munch vaporizing spiders. "What about Gwen?"

"She wouldn't let me kill them, since she believed they were good luck."

"Only in theatres," she replied. "In houses, it's supposed to be crickets."

"Either way, I had to relocate them – alive – or I didn't hear the end of it," he admitted. Gwen thought the little predators were cute in their own way. He didn't share the sentiment, especially when he'd find one in the shower in the middle of the night.

"So, you've discovered my deep-dark weakness. Now you'll exploit it, until we bitterly go our separate ways because I'm arachnophobic," she joked. "Stranahan refused to protect me, especially from Black Widows. It was an issue."

"Well, it's not 'an issue' with me. I'll gladly slay your eight-legged dragons forever," he said, grinning as they leaned into a deep kiss. "You can count on it." With that, he turned out the bathroom light, leaving them to the darkness.


End file.
